


A Coincidence By Any Other Name

by GizmoTrinket



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: (i know it's weird for me too), Alien Biology, Alien Mycroft Holmes, Alien Sherlock Holmes, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Astronaut John Watson, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Intersex, M/M, Mars, Misgendering, No Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Preslash johnlock, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-01-03 14:42:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21181130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GizmoTrinket/pseuds/GizmoTrinket
Summary: co·in·ci·dence/kōˈinsədəns/a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent causal connection."they met by coincidence"Similar: accident, chance, serendipity, fate, destiny, providence, freak, hazard, (a bit of) good luck





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this in 2017 after watching The Martian for probably the billionth time and found I wasn’t a good enough writer to continue. Two years later and here we are. :)
> 
> FYI, there's an intersex character (Sherlock) in this, and the topic is handled problematically for most of the fic. It is resolved, but I had no idea how to tag that. 
> 
> I edited, but offers to beta are always welcome.

"Is this Captain Watson?"

"Speaking."

"Congratulations, Captain Watson. You've been selected for Mission OMNIarch."

"Really?"

"Really, Captain. You're going to be one of the first people to orbit Mars. We'll be sending your orders shortly."

"Thanks, thank you. I mean, wow. Really, thank you." When John hung up the phone he couldn't resist doing a little dance.

***

"You can't go to Terra unless the council allows it!" Mycroft stamped his foot for emphasis. He’d been over this too many times and he had lost his temper. 

Driving their brother to this point normally made them proud, it was a very difficult task, but this was more important.

"Why not? I can speak Terran--"

"It's called English, and it’s only one of many languages spoken on Earth. And you know why you can't go. You're too curious. You won't be able to blend in without training." Their older brother sighed, "I know you've been fascinated by them ever since you found that rover when you were young. You applied to settle there. Can't you just wait—"

"I was rejected."

"Oh... I wasn't aware the council announced that before the ceremony." The council probably hadn’t. His sibling probably hacked the results or just bothered the council until they told them. Mycroft didn't ask why the council hadn’t granted his sibling’s request, he already knew. His sibling had always felt The Calling.

"You're the head of the Terran Council. Can't you do something?"

"I'm not on the high council. I'm sure they've found a perfectly suitable position for you. You'll be fine."

"I get to pick my own name, though, right?"

"Yes. Please pick something most can pronounce. Nothing Terran." He didn't want his sibling with a permanent reminder of something that could never be. Once an occupation was selected for one by the high council it couldn't be changed.

"We won't see each other again. After this, I mean. You'll go back to Terra and I'll be here."

"You might end up on an exploration mission. You're smart enough-"

They blinked rapidly. "Don't lie to me. One needs to get along with others to go on those missions. We all know what will happen to me." They took a shaky breath and smiled tightly. "I'll miss you, Mycroft. And thanks, for sticking with me after. Sorry about how I turned out," they, of course, modified the traditional goodbye.

Mycroft didn't know what to say. He couldn't say that they weren't trouble. They were monstrous. But it was expected. They should have died without their parents but they survived. They were remarkable. The fact that they and Mycroft were the only two that came from such a promising pairing was a pity. Of course, if the high council had done their jobs to begin with... But Mycroft couldn't think of that now. His sibling was still waiting for him to say something. "Don't be sorry for surviving. I'm happy to have known you." Where their sibling had adlibbed something heartfelt Mycroft couldn't modify his line too much in case someone overheard.

"I'm going to go change for the ceremony."

"Alright. Why are you taking your pet?"

"I wanted more time with him." They said petting the Terran animal they'd named Redbeard. Redbeard was a dog; an Irish Setter. The animal could sit comfortably on one of his sibling's cilia they'd grown so much. When Mycroft had first come back to raise his sibling, the animal had dwarfed them. He'd thought the animal would be good company but it was mostly used as a partner in crime for whatever stunt their sibling was pulling.

Mycroft would find Redbeard a good home on Terra. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could visit his sibling and let them know their pet was well cared for.

***

John Watson was proud he'd been selected for the mission to Mars. His military and medical experience made him an ideal candidate and he'd applied on a whim in 2020 when there was a lot of buzz about the latest rover.

Said rover, which had been sent to determine if there was life on Mars, had only lasted a short while before it fell apart. The scientists had landed it on a cliff and unfortunately, there was a large storm at the time. The rover fell off the cliff but still worked (mostly) and sent Earth a lot of data. Enough data to prove there  _ was _ microbial life on Mars. There was even speculation, based on the data, that there were intelligent life forms there and these life forms had dismantled the rover. This made a manned mission a priority and moved the date from the early 2030s to now.

Mission OMNIarch, which stood for Orbital Mars NASA International arch, was a worldwide project that would drop supplies for the first manned mission and check for life from a safe distance (although NASA didn't advertise the last bit). The astronauts would leave part of their craft as a space station in orbit around Mars before their return. The idea was to have an international station available to astronauts if something went wrong on the surface that they could retreat to in the case of an emergency.

John figured scientists needed people closer to the surface to see if the rover was still there since they wouldn't admit that they'd lost it. John knew they wouldn't send people if they thought there were sentient alien life forms on Mars. It'd be far too dangerous. They'd send more rovers to see what would happen.

The missing rover had a camera in it named Watson and the Sherlock Holmes books were his favourite growing up. John had heard endless jokes and insults from his sister. She didn't stop warning him not to fall off of things since he announced he'd been chosen. Since this wasn't as bad as the things she said when he became a medical doctor or went off to war he let it slide.

And as he met his team they'd all had more than one chuckle at his expense. "You decided to apply to be an astronaut because you shared a name with a piece of equipment we already sent there?" and "Why would we need two Watsons on Mars?" and "Are you going to be bad luck? I mean, you've not been shot yet, right?" were all questions John answered with good humour.

There was even a nice American woman named Mary scheduled to go. John figured her ribbing must have been worse than his because she hated him. John was ok with that, though. She was the only one he didn't get along with out of seven people (each with very strong personalities) and Mary and he worked together well. It didn't matter that they weren't best mates. True, he'd be stuck with her company for years, but he didn't get along with lots of people in the military and he'd been with some of them longer.

Harry couldn't come to see him off but they'd spoken on the phone before he left.

_ "I'm going to miss you, Johnny." _

_ "It won't be so bad; we didn't see each other much when I was overseas." _

_ "Yeah, but you might not come back from this one." _

_ John laughed at that, "I was in an active war zone; I might not have come back then either." _

_ The line was silent for so long John almost asked if she was still there. Right before he could she said timidly, "If you don't come back you won't meet your Sherlock." _

_ And there it was. She'd lived her whole life hearing that there was someone out there meant just for John. That he'd find his Sherlock and that they'd be the best of friends (maybe more when he realized he liked blokes as well as birds) for the rest of their lives. She'd resented it as she'd gotten older and more of her relationships failed. Since Dr. Watson's age varied widely depending on the adaptation he'd never worried too much about timing. He'd find his Sherlock when the universe wanted him to and no sooner. Harry, however, wasn't told the same things and her last conversation with their parents had been her crying over her latest divorce and their mother telling her she wasn't getting any younger and she needed to stop believing in  _ the one _ and just make a relationship work. _

_ So John comforted her in the only way he could think of. He said, "Harry, if there is a Sherlock out there, a Sherlock like in the stories, we'll meet no matter what happens. I'm not going to sit at home and wait for him to show up. If you believe that a Sherlock exists, out there, just for me, then you already know I'll come back, yeah?" _

_ She agreed with a sniffle and John covered the microphone so she wouldn't hear the other astronauts laughing. _

John knew that there might not be a Sherlock out there for him. And even if there was someone unlucky enough to be named Sherlock Holmes (and he said unlucky because being named John Watson was a burden at the best of times. He didn't think he'd ever live it down in med school and they'd nearly laughed him to death in the military) there was nothing saying they'd ever meet or that they'd like each other if they did. It was a fairytale.

John had fallen asleep as a child thinking of all the adventures he'd have with Sherlock when they found each other. Those nights he'd always had the best dreams. And if it helped Harry sleep while he was gone he'd tell her any story she'd like.

***

"Ysshabak offspring," the head high councilwoman called in their native language.

His sibling would be next. They'd been raised under him so they'd taken his Terran name, Holmes, instead of keeping their parent’s. Mycroft wasn't even sure the councilmember would be able to pronounce it. He'd chosen his first name simply because it had been pronounceable on both Terra and here. It had nothing to do with those silly stories his parents told him that took place on Terra—Earth. He'd have to remember to call it Earth again when he went back.

"Your chosen name?" The head high councilwoman asked.

"Job?" The young Ysshabak asked.

This happened sometimes. Especially with those that wanted to go off-planet. They had a list of names based on where they were assigned.

"Exploratory mission Eiitapw. Deep space. Possible colonizer."

Mycroft bit his lip and managed not to look at the Yasshbaks with pity. Those missions were important for finding new hospitable planets but more often than not the deep space ones went wrong. It was basically a death sentence. His Terran shaped hands squeezed one of his sibling's cilia.

The Yasshbaks had thirty-seven other offspring though and seemed proud one had been selected for such an important undertaking.

"My chosen name is Jwqic."

Mycroft held in a snort but his sibling didn't (or couldn't) manage to do the same. Rather optimistic to choose the name "Hope" considering. Mycroft squeezed a warning. It would be horrible if his sibling spoke out of turn.

"Sex and Form has been selected for you based on your mission. Welcome to society, Jwqic."

Everyone clapped politely and some were covering yawns. It was getting late.

Jwqic bowed and walked behind the curtain to be processed.

"Hwolmis offspring."

Mycroft winced at the butchering of his last name.

The others in the crowd murmured as Mycroft's sibling walked into the centre of the ring.

Mycroft knew they were all talking about the tragedy of their parents and/or how horrible the Holmes child was. Either was equally possible. Both were likely.

"Your chosen name?"

"My chosen name is Sherloc."

There was some muttering and Mycroft buried his head in his hands. That damn rover! It was just some lettering Mycroft regretted reading. An acronym for a scanning apparatus. It didn't  _ mean _ anything! His sibling,  _ Sherloc  _ (an unintentionally apt name—Mycroft regretted not telling Sherloc about the Sherlock of Earth and now he'd never know), had thought it nice that there was another part that was named with it, Watson. Everything else on the craft either wasn't named or the names were lost due to the damage it had taken.

_ "It's just nice that Sherloc wasn't alone. Watson was there,"  _ they'd said. It hadn't mattered to them that the rover was an inanimate object or that the labelled part was just a bit of it. And that's when Mycroft knew that the dog and stories of pirates weren't enough. That their sibling was special, that they had a One.

So when the lead high counsellor said, "You've been selected as a breeder. Your One will be found and your sex and form will be assigned then." Mycroft wasn't surprised. He'd somehow raised Sherloc to be a romantic. Sherloc needed another half to be whole. Sherloc would pass on the best genetics; their parents had been the best of the best, after all. Sttrau who heard The Call were few and far between and since Ones couldn't be separated it made sense to make those who heard it breeders.

It was a completely logical decision.

And he despised it.

Sherloc wouldn't be happy as a breeder. They needed intellectual stimulation that raising offspring wouldn't provide. Never mind that Sherloc was the worst choice for a parent that Mycroft could think of. Independent, irresponsible and selfish.

It was a completely illogical decision.

"Welcome to society, Sh-"

"Excuse me. May I ask a question?"

The council was all taken aback. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Taking advantage of the confusion, Sherloc said, "Would it be possible for me to select my form and sex now? My mate could be Formed to fit me, right?"

"Well, yes," a council member said. "But those decisions are typically made together."

"I would like to be Terran and male. Please."

Everyone in the crowd whispered to each other. No breeder had ever asked to be Terran. Their females had extremely painful and dangerous births. And, of course, their offspring wouldn't be Terran either, they'd be larger.

Mycroft smirked. The council had no logical reason to deny the request. Terran—human—bodies would be able to carry their species to term and humans had invented many surgeries to remove offspring safely. The general populace didn't know any of this though, and wouldn't without going through Terran training.

It was brilliant and selfish. Brilliant, because Sherloc had effectively made it so no one would ever choose to mate with him while his One was being found. Selfish, because he still had a one out there and he wasn't considering their feelings.

The counsel spoke amongst themselves before finally coming to an agreement. "We will allow you to choose the Terran form if you agree to leave the sex undecided until you find your mate."

Sherloc shook his head, "I am a male, like my brother before me."

Getting frustrated a member of the council spoke, "That's our bargain, stop being so troublesome and accept your place in society!"

Mycroft raised his eyebrows and much of the crowd's murmurings got louder.

Sherloc snapped their fingers and Redbeard came running. Mycroft attempted to stop the animal but Sherloc disappeared behind the curtain where Mycroft couldn't follow.

"Qpxiz offspring," the counsel called out.

Mycroft despaired. Now he'd have to go back to Earth all alone with nothing to remind him of Sherloc. 

He hadn't realized he'd planned on keeping the animal until just then.

***

Sherloc got in the machine and felt their body re-materialize. It was an uncomfortable sensation and they weren't pleased they'd have to go through it again once they found their mate. Of course, they didn't plan on sticking around to find said mate.

Redbeard didn't bark at Sherloc's new form and when they snapped their fingers the dog followed happily. Sherloc wondered how the dog had known it was them.

Some medical members helped Sherloc to a room where they'd stay until they became accustomed to their body. The medical team ran some tests then dimmed the lights for them to sleep.

They leapt out of bed and dug their microchip out of their arm with a scalpel. It hurt, it hurt  _ a lot _ . They had injured themselves often enough when they were young but apparently, this body had more nerve endings than the last.

Sherloc wrapped the offensive chip in a slice of meat from the sandwich the nurses had tried to feed them earlier and fed it to their dog. Redbeard swallowed it whole. Sherloc knew that if their chip had time to alarm it wasn't alarming now that it was inside a body. It would be written off as an error from the formation if someone happened to notice. They had until Redbeard expelled it to getaway.

But Sherloc's arm was still bleeding. They cursed how weak their body was and dug around the room for supplies. Mycroft had told them tales of pirates stitching wounds shut so they threaded a needle and hissed as the string moved with every pull.

Finally, the bleeding slowed enough to be caught with a bandage and Sherloc cleaned up the blood they'd spilled.

Feeling satisfied Sherloc looked at their dog. "Stay," they ordered. Redbeard would follow the command and the computers would think Sherloc was still in their room. They wouldn't raise any alarms when they got on a ship off-planet. It was the perfect plan.

They opened the door to check if the coast was clear. It was.

They looked back and felt regret. They didn't know what would happen to Redbeard now. They'd never see the dog again. Ever.

Sherloc felt their eyes start to water which made it hard to see. They ran back and petted Redbeard, fed the dog the rest of their food and hugged him. "I love you, boy," Sherloc whispered. "If I could take you with me I would."

They had a friend; she'd been a little older than them. She'd chosen a Terran form too because it was optimal for fine movements and she'd been chosen to work in medicine. They'd visit her often and learn things that Mycroft wouldn't share. In fact, her office wasn't far from here. Her name was Molly. Sherloc peered out again.

They left the room and ran to Molly's office. There Sherloc left a note on her desk, asking her to take care of Redbeard. Explaining that dogs ate Terran food too so she'd be able to feed him. That protein was important and that dogs shouldn't eat chocolate or grapes. They made sure to tell her that Redbeard's favourite food was bacon but he couldn't have too much and that the dog liked long walks. Their eyes leaked the entire time they wrote the note.

Then they returned to hug Redbeard again, moving their mouth to the dog's forehead and pressing their lips against the soft fur there. Sherloc could run a million experiments on the differences on sensations on this body with Redbeard's fur alone.

But they couldn't.

They didn't have time. There was no telling when the nurses would come and check on them.

"Be a good boy for Molly. I love you," Sherloc whispered before pulling away. "Stay, Redbeard."

Sherloc's eyes leaked the entire time they were making their escape.

Sherloc worried that something had gone wrong as they wiped the salty water away from their eyes. Their nose was acting strange too. And they were having trouble staying quiet. But they couldn't check on their Formation now, it was too late. Removing a chip was a capital offence and they were an adult now.

They found the ship scheduled to travel to Terra. They checked and saw Mycroft's name. They nodded to themselves before climbing in and hiding in an escape pod.

Once the ship was off-planet, Sherloc ventured out to get food and water. They'd nearly been caught but managed to shut the door before Mycroft found them. They knew their best chance to stay hidden was to deploy the pod well before Terra's atmosphere. They couldn't deploy during entry and after they'd be easily caught.

Sherloc watched the screen on the escape pod and when they thought the time was right they pulled the lever to detach.

***

On the ship back to Earth, Mycroft could have sworn he'd seen the swish of a tail in the cargo bay but when he looked nothing was there. He cursed his sentimentalism and weakness.

Their ship had a minor malfunction on their way back, one of the escape pods was deployed but the pilot had plenty of time to re-adjust course for invisible entry into Earth's atmosphere. Mycroft added  _ find wreckage of escape pod and cover it up _ to his list of things to do. The pilot had plotted the course of the pod and it would land on Mars. It wouldn't be difficult to dispose of the pod, he'd taken care of the rover the humans had placed on Mars and even if they'd placed another in the years he was gone it was doubtful the pod would register as alien technology in the unlikely chance the device and pod came into contact.

***

The controls were going crazy and Sherloc buckled themselves into a seat. The pod was off course and headed to a small planet. They were terrified. They hoped it was the planet Mycroft took them to when they were younger, it had an atmosphere and they could wait for rescue.

Suddenly it occurred to them that Mycroft had needed a special suit to breathe there. Their body would survive longer than an actual Terran's but it wouldn't last until rescue came. They hit the call button and nearly shouted, "Emergency! If anyone can hear me my name is Sherloc and I'm about to crash land onto a planet called... Mars, I think. It's red and... please send help, my form can't sustain there!"

Their hand fell off the distress call button and they watched in horror as a large whitish  _ thing _ moved into their path. "No, no! Move!" They shouted at it but it kept coming and then the two crafts collided. Sherloc hit their head and lost consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I'm alive. Updates will be spotty, I'm trying to do about 5 million things at once. Haven't forgotten about this or anything else, I take down stories I abandon.

John's head was swimming. He had been thrown from the spacecraft when they crash-landed. He sat on the red dirt and flexed various parts of his body, searching for a break. He had some bruises and possibly a concussion but otherwise, he seemed fine.

"Can anyone hear me?" John tested his suit's communicator.

"I hear you, Watson," one of the scientists said.

John blinked and tried to place the voice, he _ thought _ it sounded like O'Murtagh, the pilot on the team. "That you, O'Murtagh?"

"Yes."

"Did anyone else survive?" John heard a static crackle and then silence. While he was waiting, John tried to put together what happened that led to him being the first person on Mars (and tried not to get distracted by the fact that he was the first person on Mars). He remembered the alert that said they had an object on a collision course. They were planning on dropping the supplies and using thrusters to avoid a collision. They'd all donned suits in case something went wrong but they'd had plenty of time to act. What happened?

"No other survivors, Doctor. Where are you?" O'Murtagh sounded out of breath.

"On the planet's surface," John responded and stood to see if he could find their spacecraft. Even though the suit was heated he was starting to get cold. He saw half their craft on the horizon and... What was that?

John started running. Whatever it was it wasn't part of their craft. He'd thought they'd been struck by a comet or an asteroid but... He ignored the pounding in his head. Whatever it was they'd hit (or had hit them, he wasn't quite sure) was alien.

The door opened and...

John gasped.

There was a person inside.

They stumbled out and started waving their arms in John's direction.

John moved faster. If that was a person, a human, they'd die before he even got there; if not from decompression then from the cold. And if the cold didn't get them the lack of oxygen would. But he had to try.

***

When Sherloc came to, the pod was surrounded by red dirt and cracked so the air it provided was escaping. They coughed and opened the door. But they couldn't breathe. They looked around their craft but there wasn't anything to help. Sherloc could see something moving and they tried to run to it, waving their hands to try to draw attention. Sherloc figured if they could catch the thing's attention it might be able to help.

The thing ran to Sherloc and Sherloc noticed it had writing on it like they'd seen on the rover Mycroft had let them play with on their last visit to this planet. Of course, then they'd had their original form and had been a bit giddy with all the carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. Sherloc wasn't feeling giddy now.

Mycroft had said Terrans breathed oxygen, not carbon dioxide, and that's why he needed a special suit. Their home planet had roughly the same percentage of oxygen as Terra. Though, he thought there was something else about the air too… Wasn’t there?

Sherloc was having trouble keeping their thoughts straight. The lettering rolled in front of their eyes and they read, **WATSON**. They blinked, looking up at where the head would be on a Terran but all they saw there was a reflective sphere. "Need help; can't breathe," they said and took a deep breath for emphasis. The thing seemed to understand and took their hand, leading them to the wreckage of the large white thing.

But it took a toll on Sherloc, they stumbled and fell. They were cold. They'd never been this cold before. Their body was seizing and shaking. It was terrifying. Their eyes were leaking again and they nearly careened headfirst to the dirt when their body stopped responding. But Watson caught them and carried them. Sherloc clung to the odd feeling fabric, trying to be helpful instead of plain dead weight. They didn't want to die.

***

John called out to O'Murtagh several times as he ran to the ship's remains with the... _ person _in his arms but O'Murtagh didn't answer.

Finally, John made it to an airlock. He peeked through the window and the other door was shut. Praying he wasn't about to kill O'Murtagh in his hurry to save a stranger, John opened the door, pulled the being through and shut it. He activated the airlock and examined the person he'd found.

He knew they couldn't be a human person, regardless of what they looked like. They'd survived for over five minutes on Mars's surface without a suit. It was still daylight out but the temperature had to be near freezing. Their breath had come out in frosty puffs when they spoke to him.

Suddenly John felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Something was off.

John looked down at the creature in his arms. The person seemed to be in their mid-twenties and they looked like they'd been carved from marble. They had a surreal beauty that the contrast between their dark hair and fair skin seemed to emphasize.

The airlock beeped and the creature jumped as if it'd been shocked.

John set them on their feet and watched. 

Their silvery eyes were wide and they were taking gulping breaths as they shivered. Their lips were blue.

John had survived a warzone by trusting his instincts and they were telling him that something was wrong. But it wasn't about the creature in front of him (well, other than the fact that it obviously wasn't human). Something was wrong on the craft.

John decided to keep his suit on as he opened the door to the craft. He didn't know the extent of the damage yet and he wasn't as sturdy as the creature he'd saved. The creature hovered behind him like an annoying fly as he made his way through the spacecraft. Several times John had to stop the creature from reaching out and touching things. But John thought they were just curious because whenever he caught the creature's hand out they stopped.

Finally, John arrived in the communications room. There he found Mary's body. He checked her over. It looked like she hadn't been strapped in when they crashed and hit her head. Why hadn't she been wearing her helmet? The creeping sensation intensified.

"Murdered," the creature said in a surprisingly deep baritone.

"What?" John asked.

"She's been murdered. Somebody wanted it to look accidental," the creature stated as if it was boring but there was a light in their eyes. "What's that?" They pointed at the communications equipment.

"What?" John asked again.

"_That_." They pointed again.

"No, I mean the murder." John was too stunned to wonder at the creature speaking English.

"Boring," they stated with a wave of their hand. "That's what they were using. That's why they were murdered. What is it?"

John lifted his sun visor to get a better look at the creature. It was worrying that it didn't seem fazed by death.

When he did the creature jumped backward and tripped. They fell and scooted backwards. They stayed there for a bit before the curiosity of the creature got the better of it and it stood to look at John's face.

"Terran," they concluded. Then they started pulling on the fabric of John's suit, tilting their head and mumbling to themselves in a language John didn't understand.

"Yeah." John was startled by the creature's lack of attention span and unsettled by Mary's apparent murder. Plus, his head was killing him.

"You saved my life," they stated. They were quite a bit taller than John and John had to crane his neck when they stood this close. "Why?" They demanded while staring into John's eyes.

"You needed help," John answered the question as honestly as he could.

They seemed disappointed by this answer, or maybe they were frustrated. John was starting to get a migraine.

The creature moved away and John came out of the spell he'd been trapped in. "I need to contact NASA. Don't touch anything," he told the creature and picked up the radio. 

John stated that he had survived the crash. He'd heard from O'Murtagh and Martinez was dead. He wasn't quite sure what to say about the creature so he didn't say anything. Whatever it was, was obviously intelligent and John didn't want to receive orders to kill it... or worse.

***

The device the dead Terran—no, woman—was using was a communicator! Sherloc didn't know if all Terrans were dim-witted or just if this one was. Or maybe it—he—was injured? Sherloc didn't like that thought and waved it off. They had the mystery of the murdered Terran woman to solve. She had different writing on her outfit, it read **MARTINEZ**. How odd. Sherloc wondered if the labels told other Terrans their jobs. Watson had been written on the rover and their Terran's suit. Perhaps he was a mechanic of some sort?

Sherloc felt The Pull and ignored it. The Terran was obviously male, and clearly a born Terran, not one of their species in disguise. Even though they were intersex right now Sherlock was determined they were a male. Their One couldn't be another male, right? Besides, no one had ever had a One that wasn't their species. Sherloc pointedly ignored the fact that they'd already claimed the male Terran as their own and that the Terran had saved their life for no reason.

***

Mycroft's ship landed in the middle of a fireworks show in the country. He blended into the crowd and took a train back to London. His flat was just as he left it and he began pulling sheets from his furniture. He left the rooms he wouldn't use until later. His fridge was unplugged and he plugged it back in before checking his care package from the other Terran council members.

Inside was a new cell phone, a tablet and a dossier that contained the excuses the other members had told the government to explain his absence and official documents he needed including a renewed passport and driving licence.

He turned on the mobile and called for takeout before checking for documents from his home planet. There weren't any. He reported in and read the documents the other council members had prepared for him while he was gone. There were different trade agreements and news on colony members and their adjustments to the planet. There was a proposition to release smallpox to reduce the human population that failed to pass the vote because no one was certain they couldn't contact the virus as well. He knew he'd have to do something about the overpopulation problem before one of his colleagues decided to take matters into their own hands. Mycroft noted that many things were in the works, they'd slowed research on new antibiotics and antivirals and had convinced the humans in many countries to stop vaccinating. Mycroft felt that was a better approach than some of the others, starting wars was another idea. Mycroft thought they should prevent births instead of killing those already alive and was wondering how to approach birth control in India while he scrolled through news headlines.

**Manned Mission to Mars a Go**

Mycroft clicked on the link with unsteady hands. The story covered the astronauts that were headed to Mars and the planes NASA had for the next mission. Mycroft checked the date but it was too late to stop the mission. They'd launched so long ago they'd be arriving any day now. Mycroft ran a search to see if there'd been any of what the humans called solar storms or other disasters in the time they'd been gone in the hopes that the astronauts were deceased but there was nothing. NASA's website updated daily and it seemed the crew was doing well and they were expected to enter an orbit today.

Knowing better than to wait for news of the rogue alien escape pod to hit the general populace, and that it'd be too much to ask that the pod would go unnoticed, Mycroft phoned the council member that took his place as leader while he was away.

"Mycroft? Is everything alright? Now's not a great time."

Mycroft groaned. His American counterpart, Steven, was clearly under stress. "My return didn't go smoothly."

"Well_, that's _an understatement. Give me a moment." There was muffled shuffling and a bit of shouting on the end of the line before the American said in hushed tones, "What in the_ hell _did you do?! Do you have any idea what's happening?!"

"There was a malfunction..."

"Yeah, well that malfunction just took out a crew of seven. There's an Englishman on there you know! An Irishman too. We'll be lucky if any of them survive!"

"We'll be lucky if none of them do," Mycroft corrected.

"Don't give me that heartless shit Mycroft. These people will send others to recover their countrymen."

"Yes, and they'll send them faster if there are survivors."

"Yeah, well over here they don't care much. They've been on the line with the Chinese and the Russians all day trying to pool resources for the next launch window." There was muffled shouting before the American man said, "Shit. Somebody told the news. This is getting out of hand. You'd better report to your government, looks like Watson survived. Hope you got a good rest on the ride back, you're in for a hell of a welcome back."

"What can you tell me?"

"Shit, I don't know. I've got to go."

The line went dead.

Mycroft wished for the days where his biggest problem was whatever trouble Sherloc had gotten into. He decided the best approach would be to show up at his old offices in person. If he called they'd just try to leave him out of the loop until the crisis was over. If he was there they'd give him small tasks because they'd be short-handed. Then he'd be able to work his way into a position of control.

With a plan in place, Mycroft phoned for a cab.

***

It would take a while for NASA to get back to John. John wasn't sure exactly how long, Mary was the one who knew how to look up the satellite positions. He'd had enough training to know how to flip the switch that broadcasted NASA's transmissions to the crew's suits. He did so because he wanted to find the rest of his crew as soon as possible.

"Follow me, and don't touch anything," John ordered the creature. He paused, it seemed wrong to call a sentient being "creature."

"Do you have a name?" John asked.

"Sherlock," the creature answered.

John nearly fell over. "What?"

"My name is Sherlock," Sherlock said again. Their expression made it clear they thought John was a bit dim-witted.

"Right," John said and opened his mouth to say more but changed his mind. This discussion could happen at a later time. "Right." John made an about-face and went to find his crewmen.

***

Sherloc followed their Terran throughout the wreckage of his ship. They wanted to touch everything but their Terran had told them not to touch anything and they didn't want to touch the wrong thing and kill their Terran. They were getting sick of calling their Terran "their Terran." It made it very difficult to ignore the fact that they'd claimed him.

"What's your name?" Sherloc asked.

"Jawn," their Terran answered distractedly.

"Jawn," they said experimentally. They nodded to themselves, yes, Jawn was a good name. They liked it. "Jawn, what's this?" They asked and pointed to a green thing.

"That's a plant, Sherloc," Jawn said.

"What's it for?" Sherloc asked.

"That one is for food," their Jawn explained.

"What is this one for?" They asked but Jawn wasn't looking. He'd moved on to another room. "Jawn!" They called trying to draw him back so he could answer their questions.

"Sher-loc," Jawn used the tone Mycroft used when he was frustrated with them, "keep up. I have to check on everyone else."

"There are more Terrans?"

"Yes." Jawn started talking to himself, "Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me? O'Murtagh, you there?"

"Why are you talking to yourself?"

"I'm not, I'm trying to talk to my crew."

"No one is here," Sherloc said. They were wondering if their Jawn was injured and was seeing Terrans were there were none.

"On the radio, I'm trying to talk to them on the radio, Sherlock."

"What's a radio?"

Jawn stopped and turned around. His thumb and forefinger were pinching the bridge of his nose. "Can you stop asking questions for a bit? I'm worried about my crew and I have a headache."

As Jawn spoke another Terran in a suit came out with a large pipe in their hands. Sherloc couldn't tell much about the Terran except it had **O'MURTAGH **written across its suit. That Terran raised the pipe and was about to bring it down on their Jawn's head. The Terran O'Murtagh was clearly the Terran female’s killer.

"Watch out!" Sherloc shouted and pulled their Jawn out of the way.

***

Sherlock pulled on John's suit and John nearly fell. While he was stumbling, he saw O'Murtagh swing a giant pipe at Sherlock. "No! Don't hurt him!" John shouted once he'd found his footing.

Sherlock ducked under the clumsy attack and dodged again. He was very agile.

O'Murtagh aimed the pipe at John again and John braced for the hit. The suit didn't allow for quick movements.

"No!" Sherlock shouted and stopped the hit with one hand. He started bleeding from his arm and struggled over the pipe.

"Can I hurt him now, John?" Sherlock asked.

John had been shouting for O'Murtagh not to hurt Sherlock, not the other way around.

"He's the murderer," Sherlock added.

John growled low in his throat and dived at O'Murtagh. They fought on the ground, neither gaining the upper hand due to their suits.

"I don't know where you found that_ thing_, Watson, but if you think I'll let you go down as the first man to set foot on Mars you're wrong," O'Murtagh said.

"Oh!" Sherlock gasped as he held the pipe. "You're explorers! Are you trying to colonize this planet?"

"Sherlock, little help?" John asked.

Sherlock dithered around the two before getting frustrated. "I don't know what will hurt him."

"Houston to Watson, come in Watson."

"You've already spoken to them," O'Murtagh concluded.

John didn't bother answering. Instead, he looked to Sherlock for assistance. Hadn’t he made it clear that Sherlock was allowed to hurt him? He doubted Sherlock could kill O'Murtagh with his bare hands. Plus, the suit provided excellent protection.

Sherlock put himself in a defensive position in front of John and John tried to move to get around him.

The distraction allowed O'Murtagh to get away. He laughed wickedly.

John looked up in horror; O'Murtagh had rolled within reach of an airlock. "No! You'll kill us all," John cried out.

"What do I care?" O'Murtagh said.

"What are you talking about?!" John asked as he held O'Murtagh's arm so the latch was just out of reach. "You'll go down as one of the first people on Mars!"

"No, you say that, but everyone will remember you." O'Murtagh wriggled free of John's grip and held onto the latch. "I'll make you a deal, Watson. In exchange for me not opening the airlock, you'll let me dissect that _ thing _ and credit me for its discovery."

"No," John growled. He hadn’t told NASA about Sherlock, and he decided that he was right in that decision. Everyone would agree with O'Murtagh.

"You've gotten attached, haven't you? You know it's not human, right? As the medical officer, you should know better than to bring an alien life form onto the ship. Unless it's controlling you somehow." O'Murtagh's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Is that it? Has it contaminated you? Maybe after I dissect it I'll do the same to you."

Sherlock stepped forward with the pipe raised.

"Ah, ah, ah!" O'Murtagh put a little pressure on the airlock latch. "The other door is open. I flip this and you and Watson go out onto Mars's surface. Good luck surviving that, it's getting dark."

Sherlock looked to John for answers.

John didn't have any. O'Murtagh had them in a standoff. John would probably survive longer than Sherlock since he had a heater in his suit but eventually the oxygen in his suit would be used up. The craft had limited oxygen reserves and John didn't know how much had already been used. They couldn't afford for O'Murtagh to open that airlock. It was possible the other airlock was closed, that this was a bluff, but the second door was more likely damaged.

"You'll die too," John said.

For several minutes they were in a stalemate. John didn't know what to do. As the medical officer, he knew that letting an alien on the ship was a bad idea and he was possibly dooming them all, but when Sherlock ran up and asked for help John couldn't let him die. John wasn't going to let him be murdered either.

"Houston, calling the OMNIarch crew, do you copy?"

John had flipped the switch so they could hear NASA but hadn't flipped the one so NASA could hear them. Without going back to the communication room he couldn’t contact them for help, not that it mattered, they wouldn’t get here for a year.

Blood dripped onto the ground from Sherlock’s wound. The dark red staining the pristine white floor.

***

"Sir? I've got a distress call from a pod but no chip reading."

"Which pod?"

"Z-0923, transport to Terra."

"Call Mycroft Holmes, I believe we've located his sibling. And get disposal on the line."

"Shouldn't we contact the council before sentencing a breeder to death?"

"Sherloc hasn't found their One yet. The laws are clear."

"Yes, sir."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Subscribe for updates. Thanks for sticking with me. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AelishLuna on twitter gave this a once over for me. Thank you for your help!

Mycroft arrived at an office in chaos. When people weren't asking who he was and what he was doing there they were making him fetch papers from the printer or grab them coffee or write something down. Mycroft did all those tasks because he knew if he didn't make himself useful he'd be thrown out. They didn't have time to reinstate him right now. They were busy trying to put the right spin on the news that their astronauts were likely dead.

He wasn't there when the first broadcast hit, but he’d heard it twelve times already.  _ "NASA, this Martinez. We've crashed to the planet's surface. Status of the crew unknown. Most of the ship is in functioning order, I've sealed off the gym and crew's quarters due to decompression. I've- Oh! Hey, are you--?”  _ Followed by a shrill fearful, _ “What--?!" _ The transmission ended there.

It was playing on alternating repeat with the second transmission:  _ "NASA, this is Watson. I'm alive but was flung to the surface with the crash. One known casualty among the crew: Martinez. I've spoken with O'Murtagh but have yet to make visual. Will update with further information.” _

Both of the astronauts from the UK were presumed alive. There was currently a lag of four minutes in transmission, so a conversation took at least eight. NASA had responded immediately but there'd been nothing. Everyone wanted to know what had happened to Martinez.

When he was on a coffee run Mycroft spoke to his American counterpart, "What have you done so far?"

"So far I've been doing everything in my power to find a way to run transmissions from the crew through me before they hit Houston. We can't have the astronauts talking about alien pods."

"Have you spoken to home yet?"

"No, now that you're back I was leaving you the honours."

Mycroft felt his expression sour. He didn't want to have to call home planet with such bad news. But, he was the leader of their people on this planet and now that he was back it was his duty. He rang off with the American and locked himself in the coffee house loo to access his chip.

***

Sherloc didn't know what to do. They didn't want to upset their Jawn by harming the Terran O'Murtagh but O'Murtagh was threatening their Jawn and that was unacceptable. They lowered the pipe slowly. "I agree to your terms," Sherloc said.

"Sherloc no!" Jawn yelled.

"Kick the pipe to me," the O'Murtagh said.

Sherloc did, but put less force behind it. It would the pipe roll short so the O'Murtagh would have to scramble to catch it. When O'Murtagh was sufficiently distracted, Sherloc planned on running to open the airlock. They'd give their Jawn enough time to hold onto something. Their grip was sound, even in this form they knew they had plenty of strength to stay in place. They weren't sure what would happen after that, Jawn was a mechanic though and he'd have a way to fix everything. Sherloc was sure it'd work out.

***

As soon as the pipe was kicked John dove. He caught it right as O'Murtagh was reaching for it. John twisted the thin piece of metal and drove it through O'Murtagh’s chest.

His aim was true, O'Murtagh didn't suffer. He died with a look of surprise on his face.

"You killed him," Sherlock said.

"Well, yes. I did." John was suddenly worried that he'd scarred Sherlock.

"Are you ok?" Sherlock asked.

John was taken aback.

Sherlock must have seen the shock on John's face because he explained, "Well, you have just killed a man."

John didn't know how to explain that he'd done it to save Sherlock. O'Murtagh would have easily convinced NASA that any alien life form was a threat and needed to be studied. John hadn't ever actually expected to meet anyone named Sherlock. Now that he had he wasn't going to allow him to be killed. John didn't know if the alien had some sort of mind control techniques because John felt an unhealthy attachment to Sherlock given how long they'd known each other.

He belatedly realized that he’d saved himself and avenged Mary too.

"Houston calling the OMNIarch crew, do you copy?"

A throbbing started up on John's temple and John wondered if his headache was because of the alien's powers. Then he remembered that his head hurt before he even saw Sherlock and Sherlock didn't seem to be able to win over O'Murtagh.

"Are you injured?" Sherlock asked, face twisted in concern.

Despite his headache, John said, "I'm fine." He needed to find the rest of his crew. He stumbled a bit but Sherlock steadied him. Together they sought out the rest of the crew.

***

Just as Mycroft locked the door his chip vibrated indicating an incoming call. Mycroft answered and as he listened to the report he felt weak in the knees. When he heard that disposal had been called his legs gave out entirely. He slid against the loo door and held his head in his hands.

He'd known that Sherloc was reckless but he hadn't known just how determined they were. Removing a chip was a capital offence. Unless Sherloc had found his one on Mars he'd be put to death without a trial. And since there were none of their kind on the planet Mycroft's sibling was as good as dead. If Mycroft could get a rescue to Sherloc before the disposal team came Sherloc could hide among the billions of Terrans. But, that was impossible. His people's ships were fast and they'd arrive within a day while it would take nearly a year for another Earth ship to get out there. With the Earthlings watching Mars so closely he couldn’t take one of the emergency pods there. 

Mycroft needed time.

"Since there are no sentient life forms on Mar,s the extraction should be simple, assuming Sherloc is still alive. Readings show the pod took significant damage. We just need to know where the Terran's satellites are so we can avoid them."

"You can't send a ship," Mycroft said. Suddenly, the fact that Terrans were on Mars and there were survivors was a good thing. "There are Terrans on Mars currently."

"Do you believe the Terrans and Sherloc have interacted?"

"Yes."

"Evidence?"

The crash was clear evidence. Mycroft needed to handle this delicately. He didn't want to be accused of nepotism and be removed from his office. 

He chose each word with care.

When he was done speaking he got this reply, "We'll add 'showed alien technology to local species' to the list of Sherloc's charges. Is Sherloc among the Terrans currently?"

"Sherloc's current whereabouts are unknown. However, if you are correct and the pod was damaged then Sherloc is either with them or dead by now. I will have more information as soon as I'm able to return to the Terran office."

"Hold please."

Mycroft's mind worked while he waited. He made plans, contingency plans, and plans if those plans failed.

"Disposal has been called off. We will await your instructions before moving forward."

"I'll update you as soon as possible." Mycroft disconnected the call and breathed a sigh of relief.

***

John found all but one of his crew murdered (by O'Murtagh according to Sherlock). 

All of them were dead. If John hadn’t been mucking around with an alien, and alien who had crashed into the spacecraft and doomed him, he might have gotten to them more quickly. They might have survived.

"Houston calling the OMNIarch crew, do you copy?"

John roared and threw his helmet, holding his head in his hands.

"John?" Sherlock was looking at him with wide eyes.

"Don't," John warned. He needed time alone to cool off. Being pressed was bad right now. If he was he was going to say or do something he'd regret.

***

Sherloc wavered. Their Jawn was hurting. They reached out a hand but pulled it back before their Jawn noticed. They were at a loss. They noticed they were still bleeding and they covered their arm with their hand.

"Jawn?" They tried again. The needed to comfort their Jawn. It hurt them seeing him like that.

Jawn stood and rounded on them. "This is your fault! You crashed into us! If you hadn't, O'Murtagh wouldn't have gone crazy and we'd all be fine! Now I'm stuck here, all alone, because of you !"

Sherloc recoiled. Their hand tightened on their wound but they barely felt the pain. They had been spoken to like this before. Those that did had hated him. They knew not to show any weakness. They narrowed their watery eyes. 

"My apologies," they said. It was something Mycroft said whenever Sherloc had gone too far. It usually calmed the situation. 

"Excuse me." They made a hasty retreat. They needed to take care of their wound.

It only took a few seconds before Sherloc realized they didn’t know where anything was here.

They stopped in the room with the plants and slid down against a wall. Maybe they should just let themselves bleed to death. They'd sent a distress call and by now it had been received. When they'd made the call they'd forgotten that they'd removed their chip. Disposal was probably on their way now anyway. Even if it wasn’t, they'd be held responsible for Jawn's crew's deaths. No one was allowed to kill locals without the local council's permission. Even though it was an accident they'd still be brought up on charges. They'd wanted to see Terra but that was impossible. If they were lucky enough to not be disposed of they'd be shipped back to home planet and imprisoned until their One was found.

Which would never happen because their One was in the other part of the ship and hated them. The council wouldn't think to look for a Terran and they'd be locked away for the rest of their life. All alone with their thoughts, forever.

A sound escaped without their permission. Sherloc put their hand over their mouth and hid their head. Jawn would come if he heard them and he'd hurt them. He’d killed one of his own, he must blame Sherloc for making him do that. They’d heard that Terrans were violent but Mycroft had always been so calm they’d thought it fiction, like the stories they’d read.

They heard heavy footsteps approach and they curled their body into a ball putting their free hand over their head to protect it.

Sherloc hated this body, they hated how weak it was and how it reacted to everything. Their eyes were leaking again and their arm hurt and their chest burned even though it hadn’t been touched. Maybe they’d lost too much blood already. Another sound escaped, loud even through their hand. They didn’t want to die.

But living without their one, now that they’d met him, stuck alone on an entirely different planet would be worse.

***

Mycroft paced in the small room. His agitation grew with each knock on the door. He needed to go back to the office, to return with the coffee he’d been sent to fetch and keep an eye on the situation.

But, this wasn’t a rogue or an opposing species. This was his sibling. He’d raised Sherloc. Even though Sherloc wasn’t a child anymore Mycroft couldn’t see them as anything but. How on Earth was he going to save Sherloc without endangering himself in the process? 

Because he  _ was  _ going to save Sherloc, no matter what.

He took a deep breath to centre himself. Hiding in the loo wasn’t going to solve anything and he couldn’t make any plans without more information. He was Mycroft Holmes, leader of this planet (for his people) and advisor to the humans. He was the smartest being in this galaxy (except for maybe Sherloc but that idiot was going to get themselves killed if he didn’t help—again—so they didn’t count) and he had a job to do.

Mycroft exited the loo and made the queue for coffee, looking at his phone like all the humans in front of him. Unlike the humans, he was reading the profiles of everyone on this planet who could possibly help and sending discrete inquiries to the nearest star systems.

He’d been out of the game for a long time, on his planet it was decades—but on this planet, it was only a few years. Long enough that he was out of the loop, but not nearly long enough for people to forget about him. He was owed favours by nearly every government and most of the humans with useful resources. If he had to, he’d call every single one of them in.

Mycroft knew he was compromised, and found he didn’t care. This was why breeders never left the home planet, they couldn’t be objective. They cared too much for their offspring. The counsel had thought that Mycroft wouldn’t be like that, his reputation was spotless, and everyone assumed it was giving birth that bonded the parents.

It wasn’t, it was raising the evil little creatures (well, most of them probably weren’t as horrible as Sherloc had been—then again, most of them probably weren’t as smart, either) that did one in. Teaching them every day, rescuing them, ensuring they were healthy… it was a full-time job. Mycroft hadn’t been prepared, he hadn’t thought it would be as taxing as running Earth. He thought he’d make food, tuck them in at night and take them to and from places and schools. It wasn’t like that at all. Sherloc needed attention constantly and Mycroft had held out against his emotions a remarkably long time. 

But, there’d been a storm, loud and vicious it had torn through the city they’d been in and Mycroft had blocked out the windows, worried that they’d be broken by the force of it. When the lightning started, loud booms hitting the building and shaking it to the foundation, Sherloc had run to him, wide-eyed and terrified, and even though Sherloc was bigger than he was already, they’d cowered behind Mycroft and Mycroft stood guard all night. He knew there wasn’t much he could do if something happened to the building, but he’d die to protect them.

He didn’t know if it was because he had taken human form, or if all parents felt this way, but that night had changed him irrevocably. Sherloc was his priority, always.

And now he had to dig the little shite out of the biggest hole they’d ever made.

Mycroft’s phone trilled with an incoming call, clearing the screen of the text he’d been composing. He recognized the number and his breath caught.

“Mycroft Holmes,” he greeted, trying, and failing, to sound composed.

“Mr Holmes, so glad you’re back,” the voice greeted.

Mycroft’s throat locked up and he found he couldn’t respond, even if he’d known what to say to her. She  _ never _ called. He’d always spoken to one of her… minions.

She either knew he couldn’t speak or didn’t care, because not a second later, she said, “I’m afraid one of our detainees has escaped containment.”

“Oh? What does that have to do with us?” He’d tried for nonchalance but his voice wavered. She’d caught him at a weak point, he didn’t have the composure to play the game right now. She’d notice, of course, and he’d be at her mercy for the next thousand years or so for it.

“Well, we  _ were _ storing him on your little rock,” she said condescendingly as if Earth was a desolate wasteland. Which, to be fair, compared to her planet (and even his) it was. “But the person who’d taken over for you neglected to inform me just how far the,” she paused briefly, searching for the word, “ _ locals… _ ” she settled on.

And that’s when Mycroft knew. She was never careless, she’d know that Earth was inhabited by humans if she’d had any time to prepare for this call. And to lose face like this, to him, to his planet, she’d either doomed them all or knew there was no coming back from this mistake. He didn’t have to worry about anything he said or did, because whatever she was about to drop in his lap was so bad she’d owe  _ him _ for millennia.

“…have come with their technology. Already exploring space.” She sighed.

To be fair, Mycroft himself hadn’t thought Terrans possible of leaving the planet any time soon either.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” she continued.

Mycroft knew that was a lie, if there was nothing to worry about she wouldn’t have personally called.

“I’m sending over one of my best men to take care of everything.” She gave him the name and information of the man—man, singular—she was sending and rang off.

He knew many things. One, that this situation was so bad that she wasn’t sending one of her best men, because whatever she’d gotten them into would probably decimate the planet and she wasn’t going to risk anyone important or useful. (Hence, only sending one.) Two, everything  _ hadn’t _ been running smoothly while he was away, so he wasn’t the only one lying on his reports. Three, Sherloc committing a capital offence, stowing away on his ship, stealing an escape pod, crashing into a Mars mission and stranding themselves and the few humans who survived on a “distant” planet was no longer his biggest problem.

He couldn’t save Sherloc if he left Earth. He needed Earth to continue as it has been so he could keep his homeworld away and focus all of his efforts on a rescue. He couldn’t afford to call in favours he might need later to save the planet, but if he didn’t and aliens were discovered then his homeworld would abandon all secrecy and pick Sherloc up while they helped Mycroft “fix” the situation.

Mycroft found that the queue had moved around him while he’d been on his mobile and he was no longer in line. It had been far too long since he’d gone to get coffee, they’d all probably forgotten about him. And, if not, they would send someone else out. They were far too busy to worry about a stray employee. Especially one that shouldn’t have been there.

Well, he hadn’t been doing much anyway. Everything was going through NASA, they were just listening to updates and scrambling to come up with ideas. There was no point in sticking around. He decided he’d call his subordinate and find out what, exactly, had gone wrong while he was gone.

***

Jawn was Terran, so he probably couldn’t even feel The Call. The thought depressed Sherloc further.

Boots stopped in front of them and they looked up, scared to see their Jawn but more scared not to. This might be the last time they ever see him.

But it wasn’t Jawn standing over them.

“Wha—”

Their question was cut off with the thud of a pipe hitting flesh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger. :(  
You can yell at me about it on twitter @gizmotrinket or on tumblr @theartone

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: @gizmotrinket - jokes and multi-fandom random  
Tumblr: TheArtOne - to contact me and get art/fic updates ONLY


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